Origins
by Evil Ratchet
Summary: From the slums of Iacon to Autobot officers. Follow them through suffering and hardship until the very end. Ironhide/Ratchet
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, violence, death, slash,

Disclaimer: I don't own – If I did own there would be so much more Ironhide and Ratchet in the comics.

* * *

They had been a happy family living in Iacon. They never had been rich, but they weren't poor either. They had a fairly big apartment where he lived with his creators. His creators were engineers and they wished for him to become one as well. But steadily everything he had ever known was falling apart and the worst part was that he couldn't help it at all.

Little youngling that Ratchet was he didn't really understand what was going on when his father got ill as well. It just made the white youngling more anxious day by day. His creators didn't really tell much of their circumstances to him, since they wanted to him remain carefree.

Ratchet knew that they were keeping something from him, because he could hear every evening after he had gone for his recharge when they were speaking about something in low voices. Ratchet loved his creators more than anything in the world and it made him worried to know that there was something wrong with them.

First symptoms that Ratchet had registered in his mother were clumsiness and physical weakness at times. She could suddenly drop things without any warning or fall down for nothing particular reason. Ratchet tried to disregard all of this and just keep on going like nothing was going on, but a bad feeling had started to crawl in to his CPU.

By the time Ratchet had entered school his mother had stopped going to work, because she simply couldn't work anymore. She was being weak and clumsy all the time, but could also be found trembling and even spasming sometimes. Every time his mother had one of these attacks, the white youngling got worried, but also scared.

It was all out of Ratchet's comprehension, which made him very terrified of the situation. On top of everything his father started showing the same symptoms his mother had shown earlier. The couple was still keeping the things secret from the white youngling, which made Ratchet even more confused, because he couldn't understand what was going on.

Around these times his creators started visiting hospital rather frequently. In these visits Ratchet was often with them, because they didn't want to leave the small youngling alone. Ratchet didn't like the hospital – to be honest he hated the place. Every time they entered there his creators became so silent and serious.

The white youngling couldn't remember even single time when his creators had been cheerful after hospital visit. Even the building itself seemed very hostile towards him. The endless corridors were all painted cold white with the occasional symbol of Cybertron's medical guild. It made him want to walk right alongside a wall and just to blend in with his own white armor.

A medic was explaining things to Ratchet's creator, but he could understand only tiny pieces of the conversation they were having. The white youngling tried to understand the medical jargon the mech was spouting, but it just made his processor hurt, so he grew quickly bored.

Ratchet tried getting their attention, but they were too absorbed in their conversation to notice the little white youngling trying to get their attention. Ratchet was getting more and more impatient until he finally decided to leave the bots alone for some exploration. He wandered of the room into a corridor filled with hurrying mechs and femmes.

Ratchet started walking alongside the wall not to attract any attention. As soon as he was alone the white youngling remembered his creators which made him feel really bad. He just wanted to help them, but he had no idea how to do so. Ratchet stopped for a while to look behind him. He saw the door where he had come to the corridor and nobody was following him. His creators were behind that door with a medic. '_Medics were supposed to fix bots, but why his parents kept being broken?'_ Ratchet wondered to himself.

Before he could start figuring the answer to his own question something hit him, and before he even knew it he was sitting on the cold floor. Datapads were falling all around and one of them hit his chevron.

Ratchet let out some clicks and chirps while holding his head. It hurt where the datapad had hit. His chevron wasn't meant to take any hits. His mouth bent downwards while he was holding back a cry from the pain, but mostly from the surprise.

He took a glance at the mech whom had accidentally crashed to him. The mech was colored white and yellow and was was wearing a mask. The stranger wasn't very outstanding. He could see that the mech was smiling warmly at him.

The mech offered his hand to Ratchet, so he could pull him up to his feet. Ratchet hesitated. He didn't like his hands being touched, since they were very sensitive and bots often tend to be very rough. He knew they didn't mean anything bad, but he also didn't like to be hurt.

"I won't hurt you, little one," the mech said gently.

Ratchet looked down at his own hands.

"Your hands are very sensitive, aren't they?" the mech asked while smiling.

Ratchet looked back at the other mech and nodded.

"Yes," he admitted and decided that he could trust the mech.

He reached out his own hand, which was gently grabbed by the white and yellow mech. He waited for the uncomfortable feeling or even pain to follow, but it never came. It left Ratchet with a dumb struck expression.

The other mech read his expression quickly. It was actually kind of amusing to him that the little youngling was so amazed by such a situation. It warmed him from the inside and left him smiling.

"I know what it is like. All the medics have lots of sensors in their hands, so they can perform delicate work," the mech said and started collecting the datapads he had managed to drop earlier.

"They do?" Ratchet asked in amazement. Until now he had only faced bots with normal amount of sensors in their hands. Even his creators didn't have them, which often lead to situations where they in their current conditions hurt Ratchet accidentally.

The mech nodded and added:"I think you'd be a terrific medic."

"I don't like medics. They can't help my creators, even though they have been like this for a while now – Well mom has been like this as long as I can remember," Ratchet said in defeat. The sadness started crawling back to the white youngling now that he was made to remember the condition his parents were in. He handed the last datapad to the mech.

"You know...Uhm, what's your name anyway?"

"Ratchet."

"Ratchet," the mech continued:"Medics don't just heal bots, but they also conduct research to find new cures for the illnesses."

The mech saw how visibly the little youngling lit up when he heard the part of research. The innocence that the little bot held in his eyes was the reason why he himself had become a medic originally. He wanted to protect the innocence of this crazy world they were in by rescuing as many lives as he could.

"If I become a medic I could come up with the cure for my creators?" Ratchet asked for confirmation.

"Yes," the mech answered while nodding.

"Are you a researcher," Ratchet asked excitedly.

"Yes. I'm conducting research on psychological field. I'm trying to find a cure for bots not to get sad," the mech simplified the thing while smiling.

"Have you found a cure for it?" Ratchet asked innocently.

"For some things I have – For some not."

Ratchet took a good look at the mech in front of himself for memorizing the looks of the mech. He thanked the mech, smiled and turned around and ran back to his creators head full of ideas.

Ratchet had a clear vision now. He was going to become a medic and find a cure for his creators' illness. Now the white youngling just wanted to tell them that he was going to cure them and they should stop being worried all the time.

He entered the room and saw them still discussing with the medic. They hadn't noticed that Ratchet had been gone for a while from the room, which saddened the white youngling a bit. But nothing could ruin his overall mood now, because he had a plan how everything was going to turn back to normal.

"Mom – Dad!?" He tried getting their attention, but all he got was a grunt that they would be going soon. He was not going to give up like that. Determined to get his creators attention he voiced himself louder.

"MOM – DAD?!" He practically yelled, but it worked.

His father lifted him from the ground and asked what was wrong. Ratchet smiled back at him.

"I'm going to become a medic and cure you," he announced gladly. Ratchet's father was looking at his son with dumbstruck expression. Ratchet was wearing the biggest grin that could possibly fit the small facial plating.


	2. Chapter 2

There he was sitting on a lecture he didn't want to attend with bots he didn't want to know. Well it was better than what was waiting at home. To be honest he had no idea what he wanted right now. Everything was a huge chaos to him, which he just happened to be part of.

"Ironhide?! Are you paying any attention on what's going on," a firm voice demanded.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied and pretended to pay attention for a while.

It wasn't like Ironhide didn't want to learn, actually it was the other way around. Ironhide was intelligent, being precise practically intelligent, but he did lack the motivation due the state his life was at the moment. The red youngling's both creators were missing leaving him all alone.

His custody had been given to a mech who was supposed to be somehow related to his mother. Ironhide had never even met the mech before Ironhide's custody had been given to him. One day the red youngling just had been taken from the orphanage, shoved to the bot and dragged to the Iacon's slums.

Ironhide didn't like going to school, because all the other bots had goals in their lives and he on the other hand had no idea where he was heading. He felt so different among them. While Ironhide had his cheap red paint job - the others had cool multi colored custom paints. He lived in the slums – the others lived in the central Iacon. The red youngling felt like a rust bucket in a clean med bay, that just being there was somehow wrong.

"We have a new student here. He's name is name is Ratchet and he's going to be part of this group now on."

Ironhide turned his optics on the new comer. '_What the slag?_' he thought. The new comer had the exactly same built as Ironhide had, except for the head and the coloring.

The white youngling was seated next to the red youngling. He took a quick eye contact with Ratchet revealing a bit shocked expression which quickly turned into smile. Ironhide never expected anyone to smile at him, so he was left a bit nervous.

Ironhide kept eyeing at the new comer now and then. The other youngling was so concentrated on the teaching that you could think that his life depended on it. Ironhide could almost hear the information processing of the other one. It struck at him as very odd, but he tried disregarding it.

Finally the lesson was over and break started. Ironhide didn't move from his place, because he really didn't want to socialize with the other bots and neither did they want to socialize with him. The breaks were the worst for him, when everybody was talking about silly things they did during their free time. Ironhide didn't do any funny or silly things during his free time, because when he had free time, he just tried to survive it to see the next day.

Besides even though nobody ever said it, the red youngling knew that the other ones loathed him. He could see it from their eyes and non-verbal signs that they were sending all the time. He wasn't a fool. They just didn't dare to say that they thought the slumbots were scum, because Ironhide was bigger than most of the bots making him appear quite intimidating if provoked.

The new comer wasn't very intimidating on his white coloring. The other bots gathered around Ratchet to ask everything between sky and ground from him. Ironhide could see how the other one was answering the questions with a smile on his face, which made the red youngling a bit envious; it hadn't been so long time ago when he was able to do the same.

The new comer was probably one of those high class bots. At least the paint job was screaming "I'm better than any of you, so I can use all white, because I never get myself dirty." It angered Ironhide that the bot just had to have the same built as him. Primus was obviously kicking him some more to the head.

The red youngling was very annoyed, which could easily be read from his expression. He wasn't exactly doing a very good job at hiding his emotions. Ironhide just wanted to remove the annoying factor from the equation, but there was nothing he could do.

Ironhide hid his helm to his arms and bent over his desk. He spent the rest of the day in that position. The time seemed to crawl like it always did to him and this day wasn't an exception. He wished it to end, while at the same time he wished it not to end. Everything was chaos and nothing made sense.

Finally when the lessons were over Ironhide headed his way to the 3rd district, better known as the slums. He didn't hurry, but he didn't go slow either since he didn't want to be beaten up by some slum gang. He also noticed along the way that the new comer Ratchet was stalking him.

This was very irritating. Why did the bot have to rub it into his face? Wasn't it enough to make him feel like a complete slag at school. The white bot kept following Ironhide small distance from him. The red youngling couldn't understand why the other one was following, he hadn't done anything to him.

Finally Ironhide just couldn't keep it to himself. He stopped and turned around.

"Why in the pit are you following me", Ironhide yelled.

The other one stopped while looking confused. Something was wrong here Ironhide thought to himself. The red youngling had waited for some insults to be traded, but instead of insults he got something very else.

"I'm not following you. I'm heading myself to home, which is here in the 3rd district," the other one answered.

Ironhide wanted to smack himself, because he was feeling so stupid at the moment. He had completely misjudged the other one without any evidence. He had just cooked some stupid scenarios in his own mind. Maybe it wasn't late to correct the situation, though he would understand if the other youngling thought he was a complete idiot.

"I thought I was the only youngling living in there," he wondered.

"We just moved in. Didn't want to miss any lectures," the other youngling answered. The white youngling closed the distance between them.

"Why did you move in here? Nobody moves in here – Everybody just tries wants to get out," Ironhide asked.

"It's not so simple," the other youngling whispered as a response.

A silence fell between them. Ironhide knew better than that to not stick his fingers where they did not belong. Though he could figure out just fine that there was something going on behind the scenes the other youngling just wasn't showing.

"Ratchet? That's your name, right?"

"Umh, yeah. Yours?"

"Ironhide. Want to walk along?"

"Sure."

Ironhide could hear a bit of happiness in the response. It made him smile inside, because it meant that he hadn't completely ticked of the other youngling. Maybe this could work out fine after all.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Ironhide apologized.

"I don't mind," Ratchet smiled and continued: "You don't sound like an Iacon bot, you know. I mean the way you talk."

"My creators weren't from Iacon," he answered.

"Weren't," Ratchet quoted and asked: "Where are they now?"

"I don't know. I'm living with my uncle," Ironhide replied a bit irritated.

Silence fell between them, since both of them realized that the other one was hiding something, but obviously not going to tell. They both had their reasons for living in the slums, which actually gave some light to Ironhide. He was feeling like he could actually relate to someone for a really long time.

Ratchet stopped in front of an old block. The building looked inhabitable, but so did all the other buildings on the area. The paint was scrapped and there were cracks here and there on the surface. It wasn't very far away from Ironhide's home.

"This is it. See you tomorrow," Ratchet announced casually and smiled to Ironhide.

"Yeah. See you," Ironhide answered while watching Ratchet approaching to door leading to the building. The other bot quickly disappeared into the building. He was now alone. He decided that he wouldn't go back home just yet and just loitered around doing nothing in particular.

When he was about to go back home, he heard a cry coming from the building Ratchet had entered earlier. He dashed to the place where he had departed with him, just to see from a window bend up form of the white youngling.

"My hands! It hurts!"

"I'm so-sorry darling. I didn't mean to."

'_What the slag was that_,' he found himself wondering. There was something nasty going on with the domestic life of the other youngling. He didn't want to say the word even to himself, because it would be the same as admitting his own circumstances.

Speaking about the circumstances he realized it was better for him to get back to his home before some slum gang came and beat him to deactivation. He started unwillingly heading back to his home, which was just another block away from Ratchet's home.


	3. Chapter 3

Ratchet hadn't seen Ironhide coming to the lessons. The other youngling simply wasn't late, he was missing. He had hoped for him to show up, since he had the feeling that the other one would be much easier to relate to than the other younglings in the group.

He had asked some bots if they knew where Ironhide was, but he had gotten funny glares from them. They told him not to bother himself with the red youngling, because he just wasn't worth of it. He really didn't understand what they had meant; Ironhide was as much a bot for him as anybody else.

He quickly disregarded the thoughts and concentrated on the teaching. He had to learn and he had to know everything, so he could become a proper medic. He needed good grades or he would never be able to get in to the medical academy and he would certainly not accomplish anything by worrying about someone who he had just met.

The time was running too thin for him. His mother had just yesterday accidentally dropped an energon cube which had hit his hand. The pain had been awful, but more awful was the fact that his mother was pretty much unable to function normally. His father wasn't much better. He was really worried whether his creators would survive until he would graduate from medical academy.

On top of everything they barely made it through daily life. Their only income was his creators allowance, which wasn't much and most of it was spent for medical bills. He had suggested his creators that he would start working, so they could get more income, but they had refused his suggestion and told him to concentrate on studying. More reasons for him to get through with the basics and get to the medical academy.

"Does anybody know the answer?"

Ratchet raised his hand, while nobody else did. Of course he knew the answer, because he had been studying all of his free time.

"Yes, Ratchet."

"It takes two breems and four astroseconds to reach the tower." He fought the urge to add "are you an idiot?" to the end of the sentence.

"That's right. Very well done."

The door opened, which drew everyone's attention away from the teaching. The lecturer stopped to look who came in. It was Ironhide and there was something very wrong with him, but the red youngling remained silent.

The whole group remained silent while Ironhide walked past them to his place. Ratchet didn't understand why the lecturer did not ask where he had been, but started teaching even before the youngling had reached his place. He could also see how the other younglings ignored the red youngling, while staring at their notes.

"Are you okay?" Ratchet asked in a quiet tone from Ironhide.

"Yeah," Ironhide answered.

"Like frag you are. You look like a slag," Ratchet whispered with a murdering tone.

Ironhide did not answer anything to Ratchet. He just silently stared at his notes, which frustrated Ratchet. He couldn't clear the situation during the lecture, so he decided to let it go for now, but when the break started he was going to be sure to find out what was going on.

* * *

"What's going on with you+" Ratchet demanded from Ironhide, while crossing his arms over his chestplate.

"It's nothing," Ironhide grunted back. He didn't feel like telling anyone.

"Like slag it is nothing," Ratchet said while reaching his hand to Ironhide's forehead.

There was no way Ironhide was going to tell Ratchet that his guardian had banged his head to a table, while being under influence of high-grade. He had been offlined for good amount of time before he had come back online. It happened now and then.

He had found himself facing down to a floor in their kitchen accompanied by horrible processor ache. He had slowly risen up to sitting position and finally managed to get on his feet. The world had been spinning around wildly. He had nearly purged his fuel tanks, but had somehow managed to keep his remaining energon inside. There had been a small pool of energon on the floor, which had leaked from his forehead.

He had checked the time realizing he had been offline for quite a time. His guardian was at work by now, but he didn't want to remain in the apartment if it wasn't necessary, so he had headed to school despite the pain he was feeling in his forehead.

The other bots in his group including the lecturer had already accustomed to him disappearing sometimes and gave a flying slag about him anyway. Well he cared as much about them too, so the feeling was mutual.

He could feel the fingers in his forehead. They were surprisingly warm while moving around quickly, though the touch was so light he was barely able to feel it. The fingers stopped in the place Ironhide was feeling pain, which made him anticipate more pain being inflicted from the touch. He had a small crack in the plating there which had been leaking earlier.

"You should go to medbay," Ratchet announced while pulling his hand away.

"My self-repair system will take care of it. I've had worse," Ironhide grunted back.

Ratchet seemed depressed for a while, but returned to normal quickly. Ironhide realized that the other youngling had just cared for him and regretted instantly his choice of words. It made him feel uneasy.

"I just don't want them to know about my circumstances. If I went to medbay, it would be the same as admitting that the slumbots are the lowest scum there is."

He could see an idea forming in Ratchet's processor from the way his expression changed. It was like somebody had lit a light bulb inside the other youngling's head. The white youngling was now wearing a smug expression, which made Ironhide feel bit nervous.

"Come to my place. I know a little bit of repairing," the white and red youngling offered.

"Uhm. Sure," Ironhide replied. He hadn't expected this to happen and was desperately trying to process what was going on.

Ratchet was smiling that he knew for sure. For some reason he liked when the other youngling was smiling, funny thing, because he hadn't cared for anyone for a really long time. Maybe it was because the other one was living in the slums too or maybe he had just taken too many hits on his head.

At least the other one hadn't judged him from the first glance or believed the rumors the other bots were spreading. Instead it seems that he wanted to be friends with him and to care for him, which made Ironhide a little happy. The pain had also ceased to be tolerable after Ratchet had quickly examined him.

For a really long time Ironhide wished the lectures to end quickly, but the time seemed to have stopped completely. He wanted to know Ratchet better and be friends with him, but he couldn't much associate with him during the lessons, because the other one was so deeply concentrated on processing the information that he wouldn't have noticed if walls crumbled around him.

He just settled down with scraping some notes, while checking the time every now and then. He noticed that if he could keep himself occupied the time seemed to pass more quickly.

Despite his all efforts to kill time, when the lessons ended it seemed like it had been ages, since he had come to school. But nevertheless he seemed relieved to get out of there and be not stuck with the bots whom he hated with all of his spark.

Ratchet smiled at him. He registered that the smile seemed authentic without any hidden meanings. It really was funny how he had thought that he was just fine without any friends, but still the concern the other youngling was showing to him made him feel better than anything for a long time.

"Let's go," Ratchet said casually to Ironhide. Ironhide nodded in response.

Like yesterday they did not hurry, but they weren't slow either. They could hear some slum gangs assaulting each other in the distance. '_Whatever as long as they don't come here_,' Ironhide thought. Ratchet on the other hand seemed much more concerned about the voices. The white and red youngling really was a newcomer on the slums too, because otherwise he would have ignored the quarreling gangs.

"That happens here quite often. Better get used to it."

"Why nobody is doing anything?"

"Because nobody gives a slag about slumbots."

"I do care."

"Sorry to break this to you, but with all the respect you _are _a slumbot," Ironhide answered with sarcasm in his voice.

Ratchet returned back to his smiling self. How it pleased Ironhide to see the white and red youngling smiling and he was glad that the other one seemed to share his view of humor too.

"Don't get scared when we reach my place. My creators have a medical condition that makes them pretty much unable to function in everyday life. It's called Chronic Circuit Glitching, CCG for short and there's no cure for it. Yet."

"How do you know all that?" Ironhide asked while trying to call the name of the condition Ratchet's creators apparently had. The other one really was dedicated to his creators, something he never had the chance to do. There was no way he could feel anything like that to his current guardian, which made him feel envious.

"I've read through their medical records about hundred times by now, but to be honest I'm not so sure what the condition is all about." Ratchet's mood darkened, while he was obviously trying to process something.

They heard shooting from nearby and without speaking any words to each other they decided to hurry their traveling by transforming into their alternate forms. Ironhide got caught off guard by Ratchet's alt mode, though he should have realized that of course it would be the same as his, because after all their basic structure was the same. He just couldn't get used to the idea that there was somebody with the exact same design.

They sped until they reached the rusty block where Ratchet lived. They transformed and entered the building.


	4. Chapter 4

Ratchet adjusted his optics to the darkness of the block's stairway. He got grossed by the grime staining the walls with dirty yellow color, but the most disgusting thing was the smell that was surrounding him. Everything smelled of mech fluids, which made him want to purge his fuel tanks right away, but he resisted the feeling by convincing himself that it would be something only a weakling would do.

His companion seemed to remain unaffected by all of the nasty stimulation they were receiving. When he was about to ask how the red youngling could stay so unaffected, he remembered that the other one had been living under the same conditions longer than him – Probably much longer than himself.

While climbing up the stairs Ratchet looked at the doors that had been pummeled into shapeless wrecks of metal and wondered why they were like that. Why the whole area where the slums were had been turned out into this, because judging by the buildings situated there the area hadn't been a slum originally.

He stopped in front of one of the doors that was in relatively good condition. There was just some grime on it and few dents here and there. He keyed the access code to the little panel on the wall next to the door, but the panel remained silent. Nervousness started creeping into his cpu. He keyed the access code again, but nothing happened. He was now visibly annoyed and nervous.

"This can't be happening. You dimwitted little glitch filled piece of slag," he cursed to the panel knowing full well that it would not help him at all. He noticed Ironhide being amused by the situation.

When he was ready to smash the panel to tiny pieced, Ironhide stepped forward to the panel.

"Let me handle this," Ironhide said calmly. The red youngling detached the panel from the wall not so delicately.

"There's a button behind the panel that reboots it." Ironhide pressed the button and put the panel back to its place.

"The access code."

Ratchet keyed the code and the machine let out a small beep indicating that the lock was now open. How did the red youngling know something like this, though he appreciated that he knew how to fix it or he wouldn't have been able to get inside his home.

"How do you know that there's a reboot button there?" Ratchet asked while opening the door.

"You learn things after you've spent time involuntarily outside your own home."

Ratchet gave a concerned look at Ironhide, but was returned with an expression that was unreadable. They entered the apartment that was home to Ratchet and his creators. He turned the lights on, while he could hear the voices of broadcast. His creators were probably watching some cybersoap again, since there were very few things they could do.

The apartment wasn't better than the rest of the building. The walls were tainted by energon and it smelled bad here too. Everything was so dark looking even though he had lit all the lights, but the worst part was the condition the place was – Everything was more or less filled with cracks, holes and dents. The wall looked as if they would crumble any moment.

"Mother – Father I'm home and I brought a friend along," Ratchet announced loudly, so his creators wouldn't be surprised. He could hear moving from their living room, which made him immediately worried, because especially his mother tended to be so clumsy while moving that she hurt herself constantly. He rushed to the living room to aid his creators.

"Mother, please sit down. I don't want you to hurt yourself," Ratchet said while aiding his mother back to the couch.

"I just wanted to see the friend, you brought along."

"He's right here, mother. This is Ironhide," the white youngling looked over his shoulder still aiding his creator. He had expected the red youngling to be awkward, when facing a situation like this, but the other youngling smiling politely.

"Nice to meet you ma'am," Ironhide had polite tone while speaking.

"Where's father?" Ratchet asked after he had noticed that the other one of his creators wasn't in the room, but his question was answered briefly when his father entered the room carrying an energon cube. It seemed that his father was having one of those now very rare moments when he could function normally.

"You already made a friend." Ratchet's father, who resembled much of his son, was smiling warmly.

"Yeah, he's Ironhide."

"Hello," Ironhide greeted.

"Now, you father, sit down before you hurt yourself. Ironhide wait a minute I'll get some stuff," Ratchet commanded. Ratchet left the room leaving Ironhide alone with his creators.

"Where he has learned to command like that?" Ratchet's father laughed gently: "But to be honest. Ironhide, was it?" Ironhide nodded in response.

"I'm glad that Ratchet has made a friend. He didn't have so much of them before."

Ironhide heard footsteps from behind him and saw an annoyed Ratchet. The white youngling must have heard them speaking, well he just listened. But from the load Ratchet was carrying in his hands he assumed that the other one had found everything he needed.

"I can still hear you, father! My audio receptors are working just fine." Ratchet was annoyed. Though Ironhide himself would have been annoyed too, if his creators would tell everything about him to first person he ever took to his home. Well, not like it would happen anyway with his creators only Primus knows where.

"You are worse than your mother," Ratchet's father joked.

"I'm not like that. The boy is obviously taking after you," the femme argued. The couple descended into arguing about Ratchet's upbringing, while blaming each other in turns.

"Come on. Let's get that crack fixed," Ratchet sighed, while starting to lead Ironhide out of the room.

They entered a room that was small, dirty and without a window. There was a berth and desk inside and nothing else would have fitted. Resembled much of the room Ironhide had, except that Ratchet could actually shut the door leading to the room.

"Sit down. I need to get some more light here." Ratchet put down the equipment he had been carrying earlier. He lit up an extra light and sat down next to Ironhide. The white youngling started operating on very basic patch on Ironhide, but he did it with extraordinary routine that didn't go unnoticed to Ironhide.

"How come you know about repairing?"

"The school I used to attend before I came here, had a very vast library where all the students had access. I researched medical knowledge for two reasons. One: I want to become a medic. Two: If I can do basic repairing for my parents it will be huge save in our expenses."

Ratchet seemed rather practical, despite of wanting to become a medic. Why the white youngling had changed schools when they had moved, didn't make any sense to Ironhide. Many of the younglings lived right in the central Iacon and only two of them lived in the slums, but Ironhide didn't ask why, because if the other one didn't tell him voluntarily he wouldn't probably tell him if he asked.

"There. That should do it," Ratchet smiled after he had finished the repairs. The white youngling was obviously being proud of his work and sure why not be proud of something you do. Ironhide wished there was something he could do for the other youngling and be proud of it too.

He touched the patch on his forehead. He could feel it wasn't perfect, but he was just so happy that somebody cared for him. He let out a smile which reached his facial plating.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I like helping friends."

Did he just refer to him as a friend? It almost made him bask in the joy, because it had been ages, since anybody referred to him as a friend and for sure nobody in Iacon called him their friend. He just had to confirm that he wasn't hearing things.

"A friend?" he asked carefully.

"What?! Of course you are my friend. Isn't that obvious?" Ratchet answered almost annoyed.

"Sure"

* * *

Ironhide had left after they had been speaking about this and that. Ratchet was feeling that they actually got along pretty well, which was very relieving for him after he had spent so much time without anybody to speak to. Well there were always his creators, but they weren't much of a conversation and they definitely were not someone of his own age.

Though he was burning to know more about his friend, but he just had the feeling the other one didn't trust him enough to tell. He was especially worried where he had gotten the crack on his helm, but he didn't push it, since he himself didn't want to be pushed either. He just figured that they both had their reasons to remain silent about some things.

He was taking the stuff he had used for making Ironhide's patch back to the place he had taken them in their kitchen. He put them into a small box, placing everything carefully to a strict order. Then he took a last glance at the equipment before he closed the cover.

He took an energon cube from a cupboard after he had noticed that he was running low on energon. The white youngling headed for his room for studying, but he was stopped on his way there by his mother who was still sitting on the couch.

"When did you come home?" The expression on her facial plating was nearly shocked. What was this?

"I have been home for cycles now. I helped my friend Ironhide by repairing a crack on his helm."

"Oh."

This was something new and Ratchet didn't like it. There was something nasty going on with his creators that he knew already, but to it turn even worse now made him feel very anxious. Though there was a possibility that it was just a funky memory glitch unrelated to the condition they were suffering, well he hoped it was the later one of the possibilities.

Hopefully he would just make it in time.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This chapter is beta'd. Huge thanks for you Gixxer Pilot. :D Also thanks for the reviews and for the several Alerts and faves.

This chapter is dedicated to my universe Ironhide toy which pointed me with a gun while I was writing. Actually he's still pointing me with the gun - Probably wants me to either continue writing this thing soon or stop writing it right now. XD

* * *

They were getting along really well, which made the time fly for Ironhide. He was looking forward to meeting Ratchet each day at school, but the two had also started a habit of hanging around each other in their free time. He hadn't even realized how much he had been longing for a company.

Other bots in the group soon learned Ratchet too was living in the 3rd district. That fact led quickly grouping with Ironhide as scum. You could tell it easily from the way they started acting around him. Amazingly enough nobody did give verbal insults to his friend and Ironhide figured it was because of his intimidating presence. One day that changed.

"They seem to build all the slumbots from the same mold," a youngling with red and green custom paintjob insulted Ratchet, which had made Ironhide furious. He had so badly wanted to slag the youngling for insulting his friend, but Ratchet had stopped him before any harm was done. Nobody did dare to do that any more after that, but they did treat him exactly like they had treated Ironhide before. He had apologized to Ratchet that his presence was the reason he was treated badly, but the white youngling had just shrugged it off and told him that it was not his fault.

For Ironhide, it was fun to see the other youngling smiling and it saddened him to see Ratchet upset, but he soon noticed that the white youngling was actually very tough bot. His friend didn't let the glares the other younglings were sending all the time affect him in any way. Considering the way his friend lived, was it really any surprise that he could withstand treatment like that? Most of the others wouldn't last even for a day in Ratchet's position.

The red youngling had started getting used to his friend's obsession on studying. Actually some of Ratchet's motivation seemed to have attached itself to him, and for a really long time he actually tried processing the information given to them during the lessons. He still wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but for the first time he thought that studying could bring some good. Besides, Ratchet had also promised to help him if he wanted. So there was nothing to worry about, since the other youngling knew the curriculum upside down.

He still had his own domestic issues to deal with, but he had Ratchet to always put some patches on him. The white youngling repaired him without asking annoying questions about where he had gotten himself damaged, which Ironhide appreciated. They had a wordless deal; he didn't ask unnecessary questions from Ratchet and Ratchet wouldn't ask unnecessary questions from him, while both the parties were satisfied.

Once they climbed on a hill just outside the Iacon for studying. They could see down to the slums and even to the central area. It was quiet there, except for the occasional seekers or other fliers flying over the area. It was peaceful, without any sight of slum gangs or other menaces. Why they hadn't come here earlier was a question Ironhide asked himself.

They sat on the ground next to each other and took their datapads from their subspaces. Ironhide needed help with catching up to other students because he hadn't been doing anything for a really long time in the lessons. It was also a good opportunity for Ratchet to revise some of the things.

"You need to connect the x to the y and then reverse the whole thing," Ratchet explained patiently.

Ironhide concentrated on scribbling things to his own datapad. He was determined to get it right. He really did appreciate Ratchet helping him even though the job was endless. He had missed so much information before the white youngling had appeared into the picture. He was still unsure what he was going to do afterwards, but he thought that whatever it was he needed passable grades or otherwise he would be stuck on the slums for the rest of his life.

His thinking was interrupted when he felt Ratchet suddenly lean on him with all of his weight. Ironhide looked surprised over his shoulder to his left side to see what his friend was doing. Ratchet was recharging peacefully, optics powered down and a calm expression on his facial plating. When he saw what was going on a smile spread on his face. He thought he had never seen the white youngling so serene, because he was always worrying about other bots and not caring for himself. His friend had his hands curled up funnily and Ironhide knew why. The white youngling was always watching out for his hands, which didn't go unnoticed to him. He also remembered the first encounter he had had with Ratchet, when he had run to see the other youngling crying for his hands. He wasn't stupid and he had quickly connected the dots with the conclusion that there was something special about those hands.

The other youngling probably hadn't had enough recharge lately, because of the stress inflicted on him by caring for his creators. Ironhide didn't want to wake him up. He left him recharge still leaning against him, so he could get at least some recharge. He knew it probably wouldn't be enough to cover for all the lost rest, but it was better than nothing. He could study on his own for a while.

Besides he enjoyed watching Ratchet recharge and the closeness he was feeling at the moment. He could hear the slow intakes of his friend, while feeling the warmth the other was radiating. Ironhide wished they just could remain like this forever, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to wake up his friend. Just to sit there with his best friend without having to worry about anything or anyone was so nice. He wanted to protect that feeling for the very first time in his life.

Then Ironhide realized something. It was like somebody had pulled all the clouds blurring his view to the sky. Why he hadn't seen it earlier, because now it seemed so clear to him. To protect was the key here and where he could protect something better than in the security forces? He had everything needed to become one of the enforcers. He could also keep close to his friend, if he took that up after basics.

While being extremely enthusiastic, he dove back to the studying. He really needed to get it right because now there was a reason for it.

* * *

Ratchet woke up from recharge when somebody was carefully shaking him. '_What had happened_' he wondered, still feeling a bit hazy. Had he really fallen into recharge while he was supposed to be helping Ironhide? He cursed himself silently. Some friend he was, he thought to himself.

He was worried for his creators. If he had been recharging for too long, only Primus knows what was going to happen to them. He really didn't like leaving them alone because they couldn't take care of themselves. Somebody needed to give them their energon, and his mother had to be fed because she didn't function even that much anymore.

"How long I've been recharging," Ratchet asked while looking around. It was getting dark already.

"For about a cycle," Ironhide answered, seemingly carefree.

"Slag! Some friend and a son I am," an annoyed Ratchet cursed.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't have the spark to wake you up," Ironhide apologized to the angry youngling.

"It's not your fault that I can't stay awake even for a nanoclick."

The red youngling was shaking his head while offering his hand to Ratchet so he could stand up. Ratchet's expression grew terrified and he pulled his hands into a tight ball against his chest plate. He couldn't help it, but panic was trying to make its way to his CPU. He knew it didn't make any sense and that he wouldn't die of it, but still he was feeling so hysterical.

Ratchet had been like this ever since he could remember. He had much more sensors in his hands than an average bot which made them extremely sensitive. Usually others weren't aware of this and he had ended up hurting many times because of that. Even his own creators had caused him to suffer several times in the past. Over time it had become more and more difficult for him to trust other bots to touch his hands. Most of the time he could get away with it.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you Ratchet. I would never hurt you; you're my best friend ever," the red bot said calmly while still having his arm stretched out.

Ratchet gathered himself after hearing Ironhide's calm voice. He convinced himself to be reasonable, but remained a bit wary. He opened up the tangle he had made of his arms while eyeing Ironhide. The white and red youngling then reached out his arm until his hands connected with Ironhide's. Nothing happened. They remained silent while they had their optics locked at each other, searching for any kind of signs. Ironhide closed his hand over Ratchet's, which made the white youngling incredibly uneasy.

The panic was starting to come back to him. He didn't like the situation at all. He couldn't stop thinking how stupid he was, but also how he was going to purge his fuel tanks any nanoclick now. Ironhide seemed to notice the mental fight he was fighting because the red youngling remained still. He slapped himself mentally and tightened his expression – It was now or never. He was going to trust his friend right here because Ironhide really didn't deserve a friend who didn't trust something even as simple as this.

The red youngling stayed calm while smiling. Then Ratchet could feel how his body left the ground without him feeling even slightest bit of uncomfortable. Before he even had time to wonder what had happened, he was on his feet with stunned expression. He had done it. He had trusted somebody else, which made him feel joyous at the moment.

"Let's race back," he shouted enthusiastically at Ironhide, while he was already transforming.

Ironhide answered the challenge by transforming and hurrying after his friend. They were still after all just younglings.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:Somehow I managed to upload here the unbetad version. But here's the beta'd version. Thanks Gixxer Pilot. Also thanks for the faves and reviews it got even without being betad. My Ironhide toy nearly shot me when he noticed this.

* * *

Ironhide was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't come to the lessons at all which made Ratchet feel very uneasy. He knew that Ironhide had serious trouble at home, but the red youngling never revealed them. That was obvious from all the dents and cracks Ratchet had fixed by now. Sometimes he joked to Ironhide that he should become a field medic instead of researcher since he already had so much experience on that area.

That wasn't important now, but the fact that his friend was missing was. Ratchet accelerated breaking speed limits in the 3rd District. '_Nobody would care anyway,' _he thought while passing by various nearly crumbled buildings. The white youngling was right; nobody did care about him speeding in the slums.

Unfortunately he had to detour because there was a gang fight going on in the middle of the road. He cursed the gangs in his mind for many reasons. He didn't want to be caught in cross fire and be deactivated. He could still hear them shooting at each other even though he had put a good distance between them and himself.

A bad thought crossed his mind: '_What if Ironhide was caught in the crossfire and got himself deactivated?' _That just couldn't be the case. His friend was more used to this than he himself and knew how to avoid trouble much more better than Ratchet, but still the thought lingered refusing to go away.

He arrived in front of the block he was living, transformed and went in. He hurried the steps up, while several turborats fled from his legs. Those nasty little things were everywhere eating whatever garbage they could find.

Ratchet stopped in front of his door. His systems were heated from all the hurrying, which resulted his intakes to be quick and vocal. He wasn't used to running around like that,but there was really no other way. After his intakes had slowed down a bit he keyed the access code. The gadget kept quiet. The white youngling keyed the code again. Still nothing.

"Not now! You stupid thing," Ratchet cursed, but then he remembered what Ironhide had done when the panel had refused to work properly. He removed the panel carefully from the wall, while trying not to damage it. He pressed the reboot button and put the panel back to its place.

He keyed the access code once again. This time Ratchet was greeted with a familiar beep and the sound of locks opening. It was great he had a friend who knew things like this, which gave the white youngling more reasons to find him.

He stepped inside his home, so he could confirm some things. He searched for his creators that he found from the living room watching some cybersoap which he believed was named The Metallic and the Rusty. The show was immensely popular even though the plot kept revolving around the same things and moved very slowly.

"Mother, Father has Ironhide been here?" Ratchet asked his parents. His father looked at him with questioning facial expression.

"No. Why?"

"Well he wasn't at the lessons today and I don't know where he is. I'm worried about him." The worry for his friend could be heard from his voice clearly.

"Hmmm... That sounds odd."

"I'm going to go look for him. I'll be back before evening," Ratched said, determined.

"Just be careful." Ratchet's mother voiced herself for the first time.

"I will. It's not like I'm going in the middle of a gang war, you know." The youngling smiled at his creators. After saying that he hurried out to search for his friend.

Ironhide had become very important to him lately. He had even trusted him with touching his hands, which was a really big thing for him. He didn't even trust his own creators with touching them, because they always made him hurt unintentionally. He hadn't even realised it until now when Ironhide was missing, how much he actually cared about the red youngling and how important he had become to him.

Ratchet got outside of the block,but he had no idea where to start searching. He started wandering aimlessly around the slums in the hopes of he would find his friend or at least get a clue where to look for. He accidentally happened to stumble upon the block where his friend lived. He had never been to Ironhide's home, but he knew that the red youngling lived there.

Somebody came out of the block. Ratchet could smell the smell of high-grade from miles away reeking from the bot. It was disgusting, but he decided he would ask the bot about Ironhide anyway.

"Excuse me, but have you seen a red bot who has the same basic structure as me named Ironhide. He lives in this block," Ratchet asked the bot.

"There's nobody like that living in here," the bot answered harshly.

"What do you mean? I know my friend lives here," the youngling demanded.

"Because I threw that twat out just yesterday. He was annoying." Ratchet became enraged. The bot he had been speaking to was Ironhide's guardian.

"Now you listen to me! I know you are the one making Ironhide hurt all the time and now you even threw him out! I'm not leaving this thing alone," he yelled at the mech. Then he marched away still feeling mad towards the older bot.

He transformed into his vehicle mode continuing his search. He searched furiously from the various places while being afraid that Ironhide was hurt. Horrible mental pictures of his friend being totally scrapped and leaking energon flashed through his CPU. Ratchet searched through every place he could think of, but didn't find Ironhide anywhere.

He checked the time. It was almost the time the white youngling was supposed to go back home. Rachet sat on a rail in the side of a road while desperation was trying to seize him. He went through all the places in his CPU he had been and had not been, but could not come up with anything new.

'_Why Ironhide, why are you doing this to me? Why didn't you come to me? I thought you trusted me, __like I trusted you in the hill that one time...' _Ratchet kept thinking. '_No wait! That was it! The hill! I haven't looked from there." _He decided that he would check the hill before he headed home. It wasn't even far away from the place he was sitting, so it wouldn't take long. He transformed once again and headed for the hill.

On his way there, Ratchet somehow had the feeling he would find his friend from there which raised up his hopes. He was feeling tired from all the running around, but he still managed to find some extra power to speed up his white alternate mode's moving. This was really important to him. Almost as important as his creators or maybe it was as important that was hard to classify in the current state of his mind.

He drove up the hill feeling a bit sluggish while it was getting darker by the moment. Then the white youngling finally reached the top. '_Primus, let him be here and in one piece and that's all I ask for. I think you owe me that much,' _he kept thinking while he transformed to his robot mode. He wouldn't have any more power to transform back to his alternate mode. He walked few steps towards the place they had been studying some orns ago.

Ratchet caught a glimpse of red which made his spirits go high up. He was now sure it was Ironhide and despite of his quick intakes and exhaustion he started running towards the place where he saw some of the red armor plating. The white youngling hadn't been wrong; it was Ironhide there, though not in the condition Ratchet had hoped for.

Ironhide was laying in the ground unmoving, optics offlined. _'Don't tell me he's deactivated. This can't be happening to me. It just can't be.'_ Ratchet knelt beside his friend, white bot ready to cry. He ran his fingers over Ironhide's frame – It was cold and dented. The core temperature of the red youngling must have been really low, but he could hear something through his own vocal breathing. He held his breath for a while.

It was faint, but it definitely was the sound of Ironhide's intakes. _"Now what? He's offline and I don't have enough energy to transform. I can't leave him here even for a minute longer or he might freeze into deactivation." _Finally Ratchet decided that he would try to carry his friend to home even if it cost his remaining energon. He didn't care as long as he could have Ironhide safe.

He picked up one of Ironhide's arms and pulled him off the ground. Ratchet wasn't exactly very powerful in his current physical state, but he could drag his friend like this back to his place. He started moving slowly towards his home while dragging the dead weight that Ironhide was at the time. Luckily he wasn't smaller than his friend or it would have been even more difficult task to do. He just wished he wouldn't crash into any gang fights and that he would make it before dark.

To be completely honest Ratchet was struggling to carry Ironhide. His energon levels were low. He was really sluggish from all strain, which made him gasp for air to cool his insides. He had to stop on several occasions to catch some breath, but he didn't dare to put his friend down because he was afraid that he wouldn't have the strength to pick him up again. His hands had started hurting from the unsteady grip he had on Ironhide's plating. The white youngling just gritted his dental plates together and kept on going.

Finally he made it back to the block, but it was way beyond the time he usually came home. He dragged the offlined bot up the stairs somehow, if asked afterwards Ratchet probably wouldn't have been able to give a proper answer how. The access panel also decided to co-operate, which made Ratchet sigh in relief. He entered the apartment and headed straight to his room. He was so tired himself that he wanted to jump on the berth and fall into recharge, but instead of that he placed his friend in the berth and covered him with a thermal blanket meant for cold nights.

There were still his creators to take care of. The white youngling headed himself to the kitchen for energon. He drank some to make up for the alerting low energy levels of his, but more important than his own energy levels was getting energon to his creators. Ratchet took two cubes and went to the living room where his creators were watching some cyber contest.

Luckily Ratchet's father could drink the energon without his help, but his mother did not. He had to help his mother to drink the energon which wasn't very pleasant with her trembling and shaking nonstop. After feeding his creators the white youngling helped them for recharge. He walked each one of them for their recharge berth, so they wouldn't fall down and hurt themselves.

When everything was done Ratchet was alone and tired. He felt like he might flop from all the stress he was feeling at the time. The white youngling stood in the middle of their living room looking down at his feet, while worrying about Ironhide. His friend needed to warm up fast or he might be a goner.

He took the lights out before going to recharge. Ratchet decided he could provide Ironhide with extra warmth by recharging next to him. He snuggled next to Ironhide feeling the coldness of his friend's armor to clash with his own over heated frame. He didn't care. He just wanted to get some rest. He took a comfortable position while trying to cover as much as he could of his friend's frame. Then he offlined his optics and fell instantly into comfortable recharge.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry took me quite a long time, but my internet connection has been really nasty. Now it's back to normal though. So here is the new chapter. Also thanks for the reviews - they are loved and red while I'm doubting if I ever should write this thing. Also thanks for the countless favs and alerts.

* * *

Eventually Ratchet and Ironhide had completed their basic studies. Ratchet had gotten excellent marks, while Ironhide did a passable job on his. The help Ratchet had given him probably had come handy. They both had applied to the academy: Ironhide as an enforcer and Ratchet as a medic, both mechs meeting the entrance standards for their respective programs.

This is what Ratchet had been wanting to do. Studying medical knowledge was so natural for him that it was impossible to tell his creators were engineers who specialized in making gigantic machinery. They weren't build for delicate work involving live bots like medics were. Being accepted to the medical program was one step closer for solving the troubles with Ratchet's creators. They had been getting worse after Ironhide had moved in. Especially his mother; she kept forgetting things that had happened recently. It was really agonizing for Ratchet. He couldn't do anything except watch from the sides when they were slowly but surely heading toward their graves.

Ratchet was beginning to worry about his own health. He had just learned the condition his creators had was most likely be genetic, which meant there was a possibility for him to have it as well, which wasn't a very pleasing thing to know, actually it was making him paranoid. The white bot started observing for possible symptoms occuring on himself, but for now there was none to be seen. It was giving Ratchet another burden to carry, as if there weren't enough of them already. All of that was turning him much grumpier than what he used to be, despite the fact he felt at home with the medical instruments they were taught to use. Other bots were pretty much avoiding him, because they didn't want to be verbally assaulted; no wonder he quickly received the extra name Hatchet. Only bots who dared to approach him were Ironhide and the older medics in the academy.

Ironhide was a big help to the white mech. He helped to take care of his creators like they were his own. Also Ratchet's creators had, in a way, adopted the red mech and treated him exactly like their own son. Unfortunately, they were forced to live very tightly and cut their consumption even more to support the red mech too. Ironhide sometimes blamed himself on the sufferings Ratchet and his creators were going through.

The red mech really liked Ratchet's creators. They were giving him the care he had been lacking for a really long time. They didn't mind Ironhide's social awkwardness either. Then there was Ratchet, who had become very special for him. Ironhide wanted to protect him with all of his might, which sometimes lead him to trouble. He had gotten many preaches from his friend because of his constant over protectiveness. Ironhide couldn't help it it was like it had been written in his programming.

If Ratchet was threatened in any way, Ironhide would just automatically run over and start defending the white bot. He didn't need much of aggravation for that to happen. Even a simple inflammatory comment from someone would be enough to set him off. Ratchet of course made it clear that he didn't like Ironhide meddling with everything he was doing, but secretly he was enjoying the special attention he was receiving.

Ironhide hadn't made many friends in the academy, which didn't bother him because there was always Ratchet. But the bots in the enforcer section seemed much more mature than the ones he had been dealing before. All that mattered now was how one performed. Ironhide wasn't very agile like most of the bots, but he could certainly land a punch. Overall, both of them did fairly well in their own areas. They even had some classes together, mostly general things like calculus or history, but most of the time they were studying separately.

Some time had already passed when a new bot was transferred to the enforcer section. She came from Altihex, the same city Ironhide was originally from. Of course this made Ironhide curious. He hadn't seen any other bots from his creation place in ages. He had been surrounded by Iacon-bots for a really long time and only things reminding him of his origins was his thick accent and the memories he had from that time.

The femme was called Chromia. She could fight better than most of the students and beat their afts any day. She was merciless in her tactics and processed the situations very fast. She also enjoyed kicking aft as much as any bot in the enforcing department. And on top of everything, she was very appealing to look at. There was no mistaking in that.

She quickly aqcuired many fans among the students. Her popularity wasn't really a surprise, since there weren't many femmes among the enforcers. Like most of the mechs, Ironhide was very attracted to her. Well who wouldn't be attracted to her. She was hot to say it shortly. Ironhide was lucky, he had something the other mechs didn't. He shared the same creation place with Chromia.

"You are from Altihex, aren't you?" she suddenly asked Ironhide before a lesson. Ironhide had never expected her to talk to him and looked surprised.

"Yes, though it's been a long time since I've been there," he answered truthfully.

"Your accent is still quite thick, you know," she remarked while wearing a smirk on her faceplates. She was great. Somehow they ended up talking about quite a lot of things, mostly Altihex because Ironhide wanted to know what had been going on there while he had been away. It was nice. He hadn't been able to talk about his old home for a really long time.

They also started socializing otherwise during the academy hours. That meant Ironhide had somehow managed to make another friend. It did some real good for Ironhide, who had been spending all his days with an ever-crankier Ratchet. Before the white bot hadn't had any friends. Chromia's company was so fresh, and it made him forget all his worries every time they were talking, sparring or doing something else together. It also meant that he was now sharing his attention for two bots.

This didn't go past Ratchet's attention either. To put it nicely, he didn't like Chromia at all or Ironhide socializing with the femme. He was feeling very inferior like she was taking his friend away from him. _'What right does she have for Ironhide? I've known him much longer than her and we've been through some hardships together,' _Ratchet thought. His bad attitude was just getting worse from the situtation the red bot was in. Ironhide had unintentionally just added more weight to Ratchet's shoulders.

The white mech was feeling jealous even though he didn't admit that to himself. He just cursed quietly everytime he saw Ironhide alongside with Chromia. He just wanted to run between them and kick the femme against a wall. Nobody touched and talked to his friend with that sort of familiarity except him. Nobody, not even a femme from his friend's home city.

Chromia hadn't really done anything to deserve Ratchet's wrath. Still, Ratchet kept giving her cold shoulder or sometimes when aggravated by Chromia's familiarity with the Ironhide he gave her unwelcomed remarks about various things. The white bot hated it when Ironhide stood for, the femme after Rachet's nasty remarks, even though he knew perfectly well that he was the one to be blamed up for. He just was scared that the two of them would fall in love and start a relationship, leaving him all alone. He knew he couldn't compete with a femme like Chromia; she was nearly perfect and she came from the same place Ironhide was originally from.

Ironhide didn't understand what had gotten into his friend. Ratchet was hostile towards Chromia without any apparent reason. Ratchet just insulted Chromia all the time and when he wasn't doing that, the white bot was ignoring the femme's existence. Sometimes Ironhide got angry with Ratchet's taunts, he didn't let it slip and got back to the white bot. It seemed that every time Ironhide stood for Chromia he was making things more complicated with Ratchet.

Why Ratchet was feeling like this? He didn't know the answer either and sometimes questioned himself on it. Because Ironhide wasn't tied to him, he was free to make friends and even have deeper relationships with others. It wasn't like they were bonded or even going out anyway. _'Why I am even thinking about things like this? What am I to Ironhide anyway? And what I do feel for him, because this doesn't make any sense. I think I need to find Ironhide and have a good talk with him, because I need to clear up this mess or I might end up making him miserable in the process too.'_

Somebody caught him staring at Chromia like he was trying to burn the femme with his gaze. The mech probably tought he was staring in awe at her.

"Isn't she gorgeous? Look at that those curves," another medical student whispered to him with adoring voice.

"Yeah. As gorgeous as a Turbofox's aft," Ratchet spat with venom in his voice. The bot who had dared to approach him quickly disappeared. Good, one less annoyance left for him to deal with. He decided to close the disance between him and Ironhide, since he had something to speak with him.

"Ironhide?" he asked casually while ignoring completely the femme in his friend's company.

"Yeah. What is it?" Ironhide answered looking a bit bothered by the interruption.

"Come on. We need to talk," Ratchet said firmly: "Alone."

"What kinda thing it could be, since Chromia isn't allowed to hear it? She's my friend like you are," Ironhide answered, irritation resonating in his voice.

"HA! She's your friend? What am I then? I'm not allowed to have secrets with you, but you are allowed to speak slag about some stupid pit ridden city all the time which I have no clue about, because you never tell me anything about it," Ratchet shouted at Ironhide while furiously glaring at the femme. After saying that he ran away instantly. He shouldn't have had such a break down like that. He could hear Ironhide yelling something at him, but couldn't make out the words, nor he did want to know what he was saying. He crashed into various mechs on his way into somewhere. He had no idea where he was running except that he wanted to get as far as possible from Ironhide at the moment.

Ratchet's spark was aching. He felt he was being so unreasonable, but at the same time he felt like he had been hurt badly. The feelings inside him were chaotic. He also felt horrible for yelling at Ironhide, his only friend. Why he had burst out like that when he loved his friend almost more than his creators? The white mech felt like he deserved to rust in the pit until there was nothing left of him.

What was wrong with him?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: It's a new chapter finally. Thanks for all the reviewers, favs and alerts - It's really nice to know there are people who like my writings. Also special thanks to Gixxer Pilot who is putting up with all my comma and grammar abusing.

My Jetfire toy was aiming me with his gun while I was writing this. Maybe he wants a story of his own. XD Or that I update quicker.

* * *

Chromia stood against a wall while watching their teacher showing them new techniques. She had her arms crossed which was her habit to do when ever she was thinking. She tried to process the situation between Ironhide and Rachet because after the incident earlier Ironhide had retreated into his own emotional shell. The red mech was obviously bugged by the situation.

Chromia didn't like Ratchet very much, because the white mech was always trying to claim Ironhide his own. She wanted to help those two for Ironhide's sake. There was something she was missing in the picture. _'I'm not very good at things like this, but I'll try. I just need to start from the very beginning.' _When she had met Ironhide it had been clear that the two mechs were very close. Ironhide had introduced her very quickly to Ratchet, but it had been a mistake. Ratchet's expression had instantly turned from friendly into frustrated when he realised that Chromia was friends with Ironhide.

Now that she thought about it, she didn't know very much about the white mech. She knew only the things Ironhide had told her, and according to the red mech, Ratchet was the best thing on Cybertron. For Chromia Ratchet as sure as pit wasn't the best thing on Cybertron; the medic candidate had vocal processor infused with venom and sarcasm. Aren't the medics supposed to be caring and lovable? More she thought about it, more she was convinced that Ratchet was going to become a medic straight from the pit.

Then a sudden idea struck her. Chromia unfolded her arms for a while and then folded them back while wearing a smug grin on her face. Suddenly everything made sense. Ratchet was obviously jealous of the attention she was receiving from was also something else below the surface that made the white mech jealous. It couldn't be...

Ratchet was miserable. The white mech had been avoiding Ironhide for the rest of day. His lectures ended earlier today than Ironhide's so he was going home all alone. He walked slowly lost in thoughts. He passed by crumbled buildings and wandered to side streets so he could think without any distractions from the passing mechs. It was silent in there. Just what he wanted.

* * *

He sat down on a pile of rubble. Ratchet needed to think about things and cool his head. He felt that he couldn't deal with Ironhide at the moment and he certainly didn't want to lose his cool again. It was just that anything that had something to do with Ironhide made his spark feel odd. When they were doing something together, a tingling sensation always blew throughout his frame. He felt safe with the red mech and something more.

There were so many feelings guided towards Ironhide that somehow all tied together. The feelings Ratchet felt for his friend weren't something he had developed overnight. They had been growing slowly during the time they had known each other from simple friendship into a real need and care for Ironhide. A simple word was forming itself in Rachet's mind, a word very powerful, that described exactly all the emotion he was feeling at the time.

Harsh reality stabbed him in the back, literally. Ratchet screamed in pain while turning his head towards the attacker. It was a whole gang of bots. He cursed the attackers into lowest pit, but got laughter as a response. He had been careless and had not paid attention to his surroundings, but wasn't this a bit too much? Ratchet knew he was too slow to escape them and would quickly be drained out of energon because of the cut in his back. He wouldn't let them get him so easily. Ratchet was going to stand and fight them.

Warnings flashed through Ratchet's CPU. _'Shut up, will you?! I know I'm leaking energon. I just don't have time to deal with it right now.' _For a while he was amused of arguing with himself. The next nanosecond he was thinking how bizarre things were going throught his CPU at a moment like this.

"What have I done to you to deserve a random beating?!" Ratchet raged. The leader of the gang, holding the sharp weapon dripping Ratchet's energon, stepped in front of the other mechs.

"Oh nothing. We were just bored. You might amuse us for a while," the mech answered casually as if he were just conversing about everyday things. Ratchet tried backing away from the mech, but he was surrounded from everywhere without any place to go. Panic was starting to hit him, but before he had time to think any further, he found himself down in the ground.

Ratchet felt jolts of pain hitting him everywhere when the mechs started kicking him around in the ground. He tried to stand up, but he was kicked down everytime. He could feel how his plating dented and cracked in various places. The pain slowly blinded the white mech, but he could still hear the screeches and scratching sounds echoing from his armor. Somebody stomped on the his hand which made Ratchet scream loudly in agony. The reaction of course just encouraged the attackers to abuse more of his hands. His CPU practically screamed with warnings while he could feel the sensors in his hands were about to explode from the harsh treatment. Ratchet tried several times to pull his arms to the safety, but his shoulder joints were dislodged, the wiring still remaining attached sending painful signals to his CPU. Finally he was relieved from the torture in the form of savage kick to his helm.

The gang got tired of kicking the pile of white armoring around after Ratchet's screams had died down. They left Ratchet there, leaking energon all around his surroundings. The sight was nightmarish. Nothing glamorous could have been detected from the situation. Only somebody who knew Ratchet very well would have been able to recognize him in his current condition.

Turborats were lurking from various places, while their optics shone with hunger. For them it was going to be a feast tonight. But they didn't dare to approach the dying mech, not yet. After the mech deactivated, it would be different and turborats knew it in their tiny little CPUs. They were patient; there would be plenty of eat for every one of them.

* * *

Ironhide had finally headed himself to home. He was driving very aggressively from the sheer rage he was feeling. He had still things to talk with Ratchet. The red mech was furious with the white mech's behaviour. Ratchet's behaviour was totally irrational in Ironhide's opinion. He knew that the white mech tended to think more with his spark than with his CPU, but this was beyond stupid. What in the pit was bugging his friend, because he as sure as slag hadn't done anything to tick Ratchet off.

On top off everything, the coward had ran away from the situation without any explanation. Ironhide had almost chased the white mech down, but Chromia had intervened with the situation. One thing was sure though. He would find Ratchet at home. Ironhide knew all of Ratchet's habits and the white mech always headed home after lectures to take care of his creators. The white mech would have to answer for him immediately after he found him and this time Ironhide decided he would make sure there was no escaping the situtation.

Ironhide transformed in front of the familiar building. He entered the building quickly. Ironhide pretty much leaped up the stair case. He entered the apartment he had gotten used to calling home, but something wasn't right there. He could hear the normal sounds of cybersoap called Orns of My Life that was proadcast normally at this time. He closed the door behind him and walked closer to the living room. Ratchet's creators' were sitting there like they always were, though their being looked very uncomfortable due to all the trembling and shaking. No sign of Ratchet.

"Have you seen Ratchet anywhere?" Ironhide asked Ratchet's father. There was no use in asking the white mech's mother; she couldn't even remember how he had gotten out of berth.

"No. Isn't he at the academy today?"

_'What in the pit is Ratchet trying to pull? Where the frag he is? Isn't he thinking about his creators at all? That stupid glitch head!' _Ironhide cursed to himself.

"He had less lectures today than I had. He should have been home a while ago," Ironhide cleared the situtation while trying to remain calm. Ratchet's creators hadn't done anything wrong, so they didn't deserve his rage.

"That's odd. Usually he comes home straight away," Ratchet's father wondered.

"Yeah, I know. I think I'm going to go search for him. Are you okay if I'm gone for a while?" Ironhide asked, authentically concerned. As an answer, he got a shaky thumb up and wide grin from the older mech. They were good bots. They really were and it was a shame they were that way.

Ironhide rushed outside. When he found Ratchet, he was going to beat him up for good. He transformed into his vehicle mode while still uttering curses in his mind. He accelerated furiously for his search. Ironhide stared looking for the white mech systematically. The red mech thought it was highly likely that his friend was sitting in some place familiar.

The first place he went was the hill just outside the Iacon. The place had many memories. Memories with Ratchet involved. That was also the place Ironhide had crawled into when he was kicked out from his home. Ratchet had found him and brought him back home. Before entering the academy they had studied there many times. Ironhide's temper cooled down a notch from all the good things he remember related to the place.

He remembered how Ratchet had more than once fallen into recharge there. One of those times Ironhide had made the decision to become an enforcer. It was probably the most important decision of his life, and he had made it because he wanted to protect his loved ones. Sadly, Ratchet wasn't on the hill. Ironhide kicked some slag laying on the ground for his frustration before transforming back to his vehicle mode.

He kept going around the familiar places he knew Ratchet might have gone to. Every single one of them brought back memories of the good times he had had with Ratchet. He remembered how the white mech used to smile much more before. In these days, it was a rarity for some reason. Ironhide didn't quite understand what had happened to make Ratchet so cynical. The rage was starting to subside and concern trying to make its way in its place. The driving around really cooled the red mech down.

Finally Ironhide had gone through every place he could think of, but nothing turned up. It was like Cybertron had swallowed Ratchet. Ironhide didn't bother being angry at the white mech anymore. Ratchet simply didn't do things like this; he wouldn't leave his creators alone for so long a time. He even had gone back home to see if the white mech had turned out to be there, but the result was still the same: Ratchet was missing for good. Ironhide cursed in his mind. What could have happened to his best friend?

He kicked some debris around to channel his anger to something. Ironhide walked around feeling frustrated, concerned and angry at the same time. How he could possibly find Ratchet from of the all the possible places? He had eliminated all the familiar places down to zero where the white mech could be in anywhere in Iacon.

Something caught Ironhide's attention. There were huge amount of turborats. They were going somewhere and didn't care about Ironhide's presence. It was odd occurence. Usually the turborats stayed hidden and didn't come out to open. Either there was something scaring them or there was something attracting them. They didn't seem scared though.

Ironhide decided to follow the herd. At least he could get somewhere by following them, which was better than just walk around kicking things around. The little pests didn't mind the huge mech following them. They kept going, determined, and more turborats crawled out of dark cracks from the buildings nearby.

Finally the pests stopped. There were so many of them that Ironhide had never seen so many before. They were all lurking curiously at something in the middle of rubble. That something was white with occasional red here and there. Ironhide's spark jumped nearly out of his spark chamber when he realised that the white mess the turborats were so attracted was in fact Ratchet.

The sight was horryfying. Ratchet was laying in a pool of energon badly dented and cracked. The white mechs shoulder joints dislodged and horde of turborats waiting for their chance to strike once the mech was completely deactivated. The last bit of anger was washed away instantly.

_'Who could have done this to my Ratchet? I'm gonna make sure that whoever it was is going to get what they deserve. I hope it's not too late. I need to get him to treatment right away.' _Ironhide hurried to the unmoving, brutalized body of Ratchet. He picked the white mech up while watching out for the sensitive hands. He could hear the faint and irregular intakes of his friend, which gave him hope.

Ironhide started running while carrying the offlined Ratchet towards the central Iacon where their academy was. It was the nearest place he could think of. Even though Ironhide didn't have any medical knowledge he had a feeling there was no time to waste. The body of the white mech was cooling down rapidly making Ironhide go through a sudden rush of circuit blowing horror. He had never even imagined that something like this could happen.

On his way, he didn't care about other mechs giving him odd looks. Ironhide nearly caused several accidents while he hurried onwards without thinking about anything except that he was about to lose Ratchet. He, ran across the roads making other mechs hit their breaks. Curses echoed from everywhere, but the red mech didn't hear any of them. He was too concentrated on his task.

_'Stupid Primus! I'm not going to let you take him away from me. Don't you have taken enough from me already?!'_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry everyone. Took me quite a long time, but Christmas really tried to kill me. Also I've been too busy playing with my Henkei Ratchet. 8D I like putting him and the Universe Ironhide into suggestive postitions which makes people give me curious looks.

Thanks for the countless favs and alerts. Special thanks for the kind people who review my stuff. Just say honestly what you think I don't mind - actually quite the opposite harsh crit makes me try harder. Also mega ueber huge thanks to Gixxer Pilot who still hasn't grown tired of my blatant comma abusing. :D Anyway, enjoy the chapter 9.

* * *

Ironhide finally made it to the academy after spreading chaos with his rash actions. Ironhide was almost hit by bots, many of them in their alt forms, during his rush to secure medical help for Ratchet. As soon as he reached the place the white mech was taken away from him instantly; loaded to a carts and transported to one of the many medical bays in the academy.

Ironhide was feeling unreasonable anxiety over the situation. He didn't want them to take away Ratchet from him although he knew that without the medics the white mech was as good as deactivated. He followed the medical crew, but was stopped in front of doors leading to the medbay. Ironhide knew that there was no way a bot like him would be allowed to the medical bay in a situation like this, but it still didn't stop him from worrying. He stood in front of med bay's doors while clenching his fists.

Ironhide backed against the wall. He let himself slide to a sitting position when the feeling of guilt hit him. He hugged his legs while trying to figure out why Ratchet had been slagged. _'Am I so incompetent that this happened? I want to protect him, so things like this wouldn't happen. Yet it happened.' _Ironhide didn't want to lose Ratchet. The white mech was the only thing he loved so much in the whole universe. He didn't know what to do if the chance to tell his feelings would never come. Ironhide leaned on his knees while burying his head to his arms.

After a while that seemed like an eternity the medbay's door slid open. A medic coloured mostly blue stepped out wearing an expression that didn't promise anything good. Ironhide stood up quickly and tried to regain his composure.

"You do realise he's in a very bad condition?" the medic asked with unreadable expression.

"I do. I don't think you need to be a medic to tell that," Ironhide answered, annoyed. Of course he knew Ratchet was slagged, the white mech barely intook any air when Ironhide had brought him here.

"How is he?" Ironhide asked, concerned.

"He's still unstable. He has damage all over his plating and chassis. His circuitry is a mess and major energon lines have been damaged. Also, his processor has taken a huge impact and is currently undergoing going self-repair, if the system is still functioning. If the self-repair system doesn't work, he'll either deactivate or will malfunction the rest of his life. He also needs new shoulder joints. I've never seen a bot messed up as badly as he is."

The explanation made Ironhide feel even worse. He knew it wasn't his fault, but still he had a bad feeling that he had overlooked something.

"How did it happen?" the medic asked this time there was some anger echoing from his voice.

"I don't know. When I found him he was like this. I swear I would never hurt him," Ironhide said with hurt in his voice.

"He was probably ambushed by a slum gang and-"

"Ambushed by what?!" the medic disturbed Ironhide's explanation. Obviously the medic wasn't familiar with the situation in the 3rd Disrict. Well, to be honest very few bots were, and if they knew there was something wrong, they chose to ignore it.

"The 3rd District. Both of us live in there. It's filled with those slaggers. They deactivate bots for fun and nobody gives a slag, because everybody just ignores the whole place. Nobody should be living in there, but yet we are." Ironhide was feeling very emotional at the moment and was half yelling at the medic.

The medic looked surprised at the sudden outburst. He commed somewhere while turning his back to the red mech, making Ironhide unable to hear what he was speaking. The medic stopped speaking into the comlink and turned to face Ironhide again.

"I didn't know our best med student lived in such a place," the medic said with sympathetic tone.

"Well now you know," Ironhide defended. He was so used to being treated badly after the revealing his living place that the defensive tone appeared automatically to his voice. Instead of insults or weird looks, Ironhide received very different kind of treatment.

"Why? Why are you living in such conditions?" the medic asked with concerned tone. The place obviously wasn't a good place for mechs like Ratchet and Ironhide, who could be just barely considered adults.

"Because we don't have any other choice," was Ironhide's desperate answer. It was true, too. Ratchet's creators had decided to move in there so they could keep supporting themselves and to keep Ratchet. Ironhide on the other hand, had been shoved in there without anyone to turn for help. Neither had chosen it themselves, but it didn't make them any less capable bots than others. This was a concept that was usually very hard to grasp for bots living outside the 3rd district. There was an awkward silence between Ironhide and the medic.

Why the medic kept asking him these pointless questions? Ironhide just wanted Ratchet to make it out alive from there. He wanted to tell Ratchet how he felt about him and he wanted to experience more things with the white mech. There were still so many things Ironhide wanted to do with his friend. The slums were a bad place and because of it, Ratchet was in the current situation. It had also made the two bots very close. They had gone through difficulties together while growing strong inside out.

Suddenly Ironhide remembered Ratchet's creators. They needed someone to help them at home, which tore Ironhide apart. On the other hand, he wanted to remain at the academy, but he also wanted to help the two older bots. They couldn't survive on their own for long. The medic noticed the red mech bothered by something. Ironhide was still very bad at hiding his emotions.

"What is it? Something's obviously bothering you?" he asked carefully.

"It's just that I should be going home for something," Ironhide answered anxiously. He didn't want to reveal Ratchet's creators' condition. It had become a touchy subject to the white mech. It wasn't his place to judge Ratchet's decisions, so he tried to keep it down.

"Well whatever it is, I think you should go because Ratchet won't be coming online for a while."

"But what if he comes online while I'm away? I don't want to leave him," Ironhide sounded worried.

"I promise. We'll contact you somehow," the medic smiled warmly. Ratchet may have had the best and most caring friend in the whole universe.

Ironhide took a peek from the window leading to the medbay. He could see various medics working around a medical berth. From here and there he could catch a glimpse of white armoring. The sight made his spark ache. He then reluctantly turned his back to the window and headed out.

* * *

Ironhide was back at the academy lessons next day. Ratchet's creators had convinced him to attend them, so he wouldn't fall back in the studying. They had also been worried about Ratchet, but Ironhide didn't have the spark to tell the whole truth about their son's condition. He just couldn't do it for the already burdened pair of bots.

Ironhide was being very distant. He didn't speak much normally either, so nobody noticed anything, except Chromia. She approached the red mech between the lessons. She needed to tell Ironhide the conclusion she had reached earlier, so the situation between the two mechs would be cleared. Ironhide and Ratchet having a fight wasn't a very pleasant situation to Chromia either, because she had to stand the sulky red mech.

"I think you shouldn't be so angry at the Hatchet," Chromia tried to start a conversation.

"I'm not angry at him. How could I be?" Ironhide voiced his opinion a bit more harshly than he had meant.

"Well he angered without any explanation and left even before you had time to answer for him," Chromia added with some sarcasm in his voice: "And your actions speak before you, quite clearly."

"Yes, I was angry at him first. His behaviour was so unreasonable, but-"

"No buts. I know exactly why he did what he did," Chromia interrupted Ironhide's speech. She had to tell this for better or worse, and in the best case scenario, she wouldn't have to tolerate Rachet's venom spitting any more. Ironhide was looking at her with confusion written all over his facial plating. The red mech was so easy to read.

"Ratchet's jealous to me," Chromia said with a lowered tone while winking. Ironhide looked even more confused now.

"In Cybertronian please?" Ironhide demanded.

"For Primus' sake Ironhide! You can't possibly be so oblivious. He's in love with you and thinks I'm going to take you away from him." Chromia was rolling her optics. Ironhide was looking at her with dumbstruck expression, remaining silent.

"How can you be sure?" Ironhide asked carefully.

"Girl instinct. Believe me." Chromia was feeling slighty uneasy over the situation. She folded her arms over her chest while eyeing her friend curiously. She didn't know what to expect from Ironhide at the moment. For once, the red mech had an expression that was unreadable. The truth was that Ironhide was overflowing with emotion inside, but he just didn't know how to express them.

Everything seemed so clear to the red mech at the moment. Everything starting from Ratchet's weird behaviour to the accident. Ironhide felt so guilty that he hadn't noticed it himself. He should have listened to Ratchet when he had something to tell him instead of getting annoyed. _'I'm so going to beat up those fraggers who did that to my Ratchet.' _Also, the possibility of his feelings being returned made him feel extremely light for a moment, until he remembered that the object of those feelings was laying offline in a medical berth.

* * *

The days kept going. Ironhide took care of Ratchet's creators all alone while visiting Ratchet at every occasion. The white wasn't coming online despite Ratchet being stabilized already which made Ironhide feel more and more depressed. Ironhide started feeling very hopeless while the situation progressed, and it was becoming harder every day to keep the whole truth hidden from Ratchet's creators. The medics kept repeating to him that it was normal for a bot to stay offline a long time after processor damage, but it didn't make Ironhide feel any better about the situation.

Finally when it had been almost a Cybertronian week a medic silently entered the classroom where the enforcer students were training. The medic was scanning the classroom in an attempt to find a specific student among them. His optics fixed on the red mech.

The medic closed the distance between him and Ironhide. He whispered something to the red mech's audio which seemingly lightened up Ironhide. The red mech practically ran out of the classroom with a happy expression plastered to his face plates. Ratchet had come back online.

* * *

_'What the pit is this? Frag, it hurts like a slag. Now what is this? I can't move my legs or my hands and I think I've got the worst processor ache ever.' _Ratchet's vision was still a bit blurry, because his optics needed some time to come fully online after being unused for such a long time. He tried to recall the situation, but still he had no idea how he had ended up to the place where he currently was. Ratchet looked around himself and recognized the place as one of the academy's medbays. His internal chronometer was malfunctioning, and the white mech didn't have the slightest clue on how long he had been offline.

Sudden realisation hit him.

"Oh frag! Who's taking care of my creators?!" Ratchet shouted aloud while trying furiously rise up from the berth. He didn't have the luxury to lay around doing nothing while his creators were helpless at home. The white mech tried to pull every possible stunt he could think of, but he only managed to make it into a sitting position. Ratchet's limbs simply refused to work.

A group of medics hurried into the room. He was pushed down back to the berth, and much to Ratchet's dislike, he couldn't resist them at all. All the power he had had in him was disappearing from his frame. The white mech wasn't a bot who liked to be confined to bed and there were his creators that needed him.

"What in the pit are you doing?! I need to go home to take care of my creators," Ratchet shouted at the medics. His medical training told him the answer which was actually quite obvious. The white mech was still badly injured, but it didn't stop Ratchet from being stubborn.

One of the medics shook his head, amused. Ratchet was currently very well known among the medical staff in the academy for three reasons: Reason one was his natural talent in medical knowledge, the second reason was his temper, and the third reason was his hospitalisation. Those were more than enough reasons to the academy medics be following Ratchet with keen optics.

"You need to rest. You should know yourself that you're in no position to get up for a while yet. Also what it comes to your creators, I believe your red friend Ironhide has been taking care of them the whole time you've been offline," answered the same mech who was being amused by Ratchet's temper tantrum.

Hearing Ironhide's name made Ratchet feel very anxious. They still had things unsettled. The red mech would probably hate him after everything. Ratchet just had to have himself slagged over the stupid nonexistant argument they had had. He felt like purging his fuel tanks. The white mech had no idea what to say to Ironhide if the red mech showed up in the medbay. Ratchet wished that the situation of facing his friend would be postponed as much as possible.

But Ratchet wasn't allowed that luxury; Ironhide rushed to the room soon after the white mech had come online. The red mech's facial plating was full of emotion. Ratchet felt nauseous; he didn't want to deal with this now. The white mech couldn't read if the emotions were of anger, hate or care. He was so afraid that Ironhide would hate him after all this. There was silence between the two mechs. Ironhide just stood in there staring at Ratchet who was laying on the berth. The medics who had been in the room exited, leaving them alone.

Ironhide was the one to break the silence. He bent up over Ratchet and carefully pressed his forehead against Ratchet's helm. The white mech was confused when Ironhide suddenly hugged him affectionately. The red mech was trembling and sobs could be heard. Ratchet didn't understand what was going on anymore. He had never seen Ironhide crying over anything.

"I'm so glad you're alive. I thought I had lost you too, "Ironhide sobbed quietly into Ratchet's audios. Now Ratchet felt even more awful than he had felt before.

"I'm sorry 'Hide. I'm sorry that I made you worry. I'm sorry about everything. I've been so stupid and selfish," Ratchet answered, very apologetic. He wanted Ironhide to forgive him.

"No don't be. I'm sure you have had your reasons."

"Yes, I'm afraid that Chromia might take you away from me and I realised that I love you. I really do and not just some brotherly love, but I really do love you," Ratchet blurted it out in haste, still afraid of ruining their friendship forever and being rejected. The white mech shut down his optics, because he was too afraid to see Ironhide's reaction.

"I love you too. I think I've loved you since the beginning," Ironhide answered with hint of joy in his voice. Despite the tiredness Ratchet had started feeling, he couldn't help but smile. Ironhide noticed the white mech smiling and it made him feel warm inside. He loved when Ratchet smiled and wanted to make the white bot smile often. The circumstances just weren't in their favour which had turned Ratchet cynical.

Ratchet nudged his helm closer to Ironhide's. The warmth that was eminating from the red mech was very soothing. It had been a while since they had been close like this which made Ratchet wish he could move his limbs so he could properly embrace Ironhide. They were in that position for a while, neither one saying anything. Words were not needed. Both of them knew each other throughout already and knew exactly what the other one wanted. They just listened to each other's intakes and enjoyed the closeness.

Little by little Ratchet fell into recharge in Ironhide's arms. A peaceful expression was glued on the white mech's faceplates.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm getting close to the end slowly but surely. Sorry this took so long, but i'm suffering from writer's block. My new Jetfire toy forced me to write this, if it wasn't for him this chapter wouldn't be out even now. Also because I'll be away for two days I uploaded this like this: There's going to be some changes to this chapter later on.

Also, the amount of stories that have EXACTLY the same title in the pit are starting to bug me(especially because they appeared after my story). But I suck at giving titles to stories, so I would appreciate any suggestions for a new title. Let's say, I'll write a extra bonus chapter to the winner. :) Anyway, enjoy chapter 10.

* * *

Ratchet was listening a lecture. He was craving to learn new things after his hospitalization. He had been released quite quickly from the medbay because his constant complaining and bitching. The white mech wasn't completely healed yet. He couldn't transform, and if he kept up too long, his processor started overheating. That normally led to a processor ache. But the situation was better than Ratchet giving pit to the medics treating him. Ratchet was frustrated with the situation, because he was contstantly baby sitted by Ironhide. He wanted to remain independent and having someone following your every move certainly wasn't that.

Ratchet had been going around pestering his teachers for the lectures he had missed. He had been so occupied with studying lately that it seemed that he had forgotten all about Ironhide and their confession to each other. It wasn't the case; Ratchet was simply putting things in the right order. First came his creators' well being, then came his studying, and after those his personal needs. At the moment, the situation demanded him to study like a crazy.

Ratchet turned his gaze to the lecturer. As always, he was very determined to understand the contents of the teaching. The subject was very familiar to the white mech: Chronic Circuit Glitching, the very same condition his creators were suffering from. Most of the information Ratchet knew already before hand; well, he had lifetime experience with his creators having the condition.

Actually, it had become an obsession to Ratchet to the point of ignoring his personal needs and desires. It was also eating him from the inside, which just added more to his already cynical personality. CCG three letters driving Ratchet forward. Normally, younglings would change their career plans several times before reaching the final conclusion of what they wanted to become when they are "big." That wasn't the case with Ratchet. He had chosen to become a medic at very young age and had never even considered other career. His creators, of course, would have wanted him to become an engineer, but even they couldn't come between Ratchet and his obsession.

Ratchet himself didn't admit to having any kind of obsession, but anyone with a half-working processor could figure it out. It had become his life: Become a medic and find a cure for CCG. It had even taken the white mech's social, life and that's why Ironhide remained his only friend.

Ratchet shifted his position. Sitting in the same position too long made his recently repaired circuits ache. The lecturer was speaking rather monotonously. It didn't matter to the white mech. Only the subject and information mattered.

"...At this point there's nothing to do. Even if there was a cure it wouldn't help, because the accumulated damage to the processor and CPU are beyond any repair program could ever handle..."

Ratchet couldn't believe what he was hearing. He clenched his fists to the point where the stylus he was holding snapped apart, sending his sensors down to the pit in his hands. His world was coming to an end. Ratchet had never even thought about the possibility of losing his creators. He had dedicated all his life to becoming a medic and finding a cure to the illness. In an instant, everything was taken away from him.

He sat up from his seat so quickly that the chair he was sitting on fell down to the floor. His expression was furious. The lecturer stopped speaking and turned to look at the white mech while the other students did the same.

"Are you saying that I've run out of time?!" Ratchet yelled at the lecturer who looked confused.

"Ratchet, I don't think I quite follow, but-"

"Of course you don't understand! Nobody does, nobody in this pit-ridden slag, understands!" Ratchet shouted back before giving the lecturer time to finish his sentence. Something snapped in his CPU and he started throwing whatever things he had in his hands. Warnings flashed through Ratchet's CPU while he kept raging. The lecturer told him to calm down while dodging a datapad. Ratchet could only faintly hear the lecturer anymore.

The white mech's CPU was screaming warnings about emergency shut down. Ratchet's processor ached and it was overheated. His whole world was literally coming crashing down, dragging his CPU along. Ratchet's raging died down and the white mech collapsed to the floor when his systems finally crashed. The lecturer looked dumbstruck for a while before realising he had a medical emergency on hand. The lecturer commanded all the students to the work, though most of them were too stunned to do anything except stare at the offlined white mech.

* * *

Ratchet onlined his optics in a familiar place. _'Oh slag!' _It was the same medbay he'd been confined not so long time ago. The white mech checked his internal chronometer; He had been there for only couple of cycles this time.

Ratchet tried to sit up, determined to leave the place. The last place he now wanted to be was in a medbay. On the other hand, he didn't want to face his creators, feeling that he had somehow let them down. But Ratchet couldn't sit up because his arms were tied just under his elbow and bigger straps crossed his body.

_'What in the pit?'_ It wasn't like he was convicted criminal, but after the thought crossed his mind, he remembered his outburst in the class. Ratchet felt like a part of his spark was missing. It was so empty and painful. He couldn't do anything for his creators anymore, except watch them die. He didn't have anything to base on his life anymore because it had been revolving around the same thing and now it was all taken away from him. There really wasn't any reason for him to become a medic, but he didn't know what else he might want to do. He had never thought about the possibility of his creators' condition advancing to the point it would be impossible for him the help them.

He couldn't even see Ironhide around. Maybe even the red mech had abandonded him, now that everything else was falling apart. Ratchet stared at the ceiling. For a while, there was nothing going through his CPU, just a silence. Then, a desperation flowed through his every circuit, making him grit his dental plating together and to clench his fists together while he was holding a scream inside.

The door to the medbay opened. A single mech stepped in holding a datapad. The mech seemed somehow familiar, but Ratchet didn't care enough at this point to search through his CPU to confirm the stranger's identity. He kept staring at the ceiling while hoping the mech would not see the chaos-like feelings he was going through. The white mech didn't want anyone butting their heads into his business.

Unfortunately the mech who had entered wasn't going to leave him alone. _'Great, just what I needed.' _The mech was coloured white and yellow and wore a mask. The stranger was smiling at him warmly.

"Hello Ratchet. We meet again," the white and yellow mech greeted.

"I don't think I know you. What do you want?" Ratchet answered coldly. He wanted the mech to get the slag out of there.

"You've certainly changed from the time I met you." The mech was checking through the datapad while speaking. Ratchet just kept staring at the ceiling, expressionless.

"I don't think I gave you my name back then. I'm Fender. I met you once when you were still a sparkling. I didn't think the next time I see you it would be under these circumstances."

Ratchet remembered now who the other mech was. He had met him in a hospital when he had been just a sparkling. The mech was partially guilty for his career choice. Like it mattered anyway.

"Where's Ironhide?" Ratchet asked without even turning to look at Fender.

"He was here until a while ago, but I believe he went back home to take care of your creators," Fender answered while scribbling something on the datapad. Ratchet didn't answer anything. He really wasn't in the mood to talk.

"You probably can guess, why I am here?" Fender tried to get an optic contact with Ratchet, but the white mech just stared at the ceiling emotionless.

"They think I'm crazy and sent a shrink to figure me out," Ratchet said in a flat monotone. The world really wasn't kind place to bots. There wasn't any of that enthusiasm and innocence left that Fender had seen in the mech ages ago. Fender shook his head and wrote down something on his datapad again.

"Not exactly. But there obviously is something going on with you; you just turned violent during a lesson and then you crashed." A concern could be heard from the psychiatrist's voice. Ratchet didn't respond.

"You do realise that you're infamous already? Your record of scaring bots away and being antisocial is something in itself to worry about, but we let you be because you weren't harming anyone. When you were hospitalized, we had a meeting concerning your mental state and we decided to let you be unless something occured." Fender locked his optics with Ratchet's who had now turned his head towards the white and yellow mech. Ratchet looked frightened and he probably would have run away if he had been confined to the berth.

"I know you're very clever mech; almost every medical teacher is talking about you and how gifted you are. Tell me what happened and I'll promise to help you in any way I can," Fender promised in a soothing voice. They probably wouldn't have bothered with Ratchet's case if the mech had been just an average med student. Ratchet was anything but average; the white mech was on top of every subject and showed such dedication that was beyond the normal levels.

"Please, release me," Ratchet whispered, just barely audible. Fender smiled behind his mask. This was good. Ratchet was now looking at him and speaking to him. The psychiatrist nodded and unstrapped the white mech. The medbay's doors were locked, but there was no way Ratchet knew that, so even if the white mech tried to escape he wouldn't succeed.

The white mech sat up on the berth just to tuck his legs against his stomach while embracing them hard. Ratchet hoped it would fill the empty feeling a little bit. Fender noticed the white mech starting to rock himself nervously. The situation was really bad; they should have intervened with Ratchet's business a long time ago.

"Why did you crash during the lessons?" Fender asked carefully. Ratchet stopped rocking himself and looked at the psychiatrist straight to the optics with hurtfull expression. Keeping things for himself didn't matter to Ratchet at this point, besides the damned shrink wouldn't leave him alone before he told him anyway.

"My creators are going to deactivate soon and I can't help it. I based my entire life for finding a cure for their condition and now I'm told it's too late for me. I don't know what to do anymore. I've let my creators down and I've been taken away the reason for my existence!" Ratchet half screamed. Ratchet buried his head to his arms and trembled from the all emotion he'd kept hidden. Fender placed his hand on Ratchet's shoulder for comfort.

"I'm sure your creators aren't blaming you of anything. Only lousy creators would do that to their own creation," Fender tried to comfort. He understood what was wrong with Ratchet now. All the stress from taking care of his creators and dedicating his life solely for one purpose to the point of having minimal social life was wearing Ratchet down. The lecture before had just been the breaking point.

"But what I'm going to do from now on? I don't have any reason to keep on studying. What reason I would be doing it?" Ratchet was now clearly crying. The white mech was lost and confused.

"That's something you need to figure out yourself. My personal opinion is that it would be waste if you stopped now at this point. I know you're a good mech. You've been taking care of your creators for your whole life and you gave Ironhide a place to live; those are things many bots wouldn't do without breaking down entirely. Now you need to think what you want for yourself – Not for others, but honestly for yourself," Fender said with confidence. Ratchet seemed to succumb into his own thoughts.

"Stay here for the night, so you can think things through. I'll get someone to contact Ironhide that you won't be coming home for tonight." Fender smiled at Ratchet. The white mech responded with a nod. The situation pleased Ratchet because he really didn't want to go home and face his creators at the moment. Ratchet was so sure he could not look into their faces without bursting into tears.

Fender turned his back while writing enthusiastically more things down to his datapad and exited the room. _'What an interesting case. I'll see how he'll pull through this.'_ Fender signed the raport on Ratchet after putting down some more notes. He whistled merrily while walking down the corridor.

* * *

Ratchet was still sitting in the same position as he had been when Fender left the medbay. Speaking about the situation had relieved him quite a lot. He was starting to accept slowly that there really was nothing to do with his creators anymore, except to take care of them in the best way possible. It hurt Ratchet from the inside making his spark ache, but he realised that it wasn't his fault.

He still didn't know what he wanted for himself. Ratchet had never put himself as a top priority. There was always his creators, then his sudying and even Ironhide who made it over himself. It was confusing for Ratchet to think about himself, but slowly he was starting to have his confidence back.

_'I'm not a weakling. I'm strong and I refuse to give up. I don't know where I'm heading yet, but by Primus damnit I won't stop until I'm satisfied. For now I'll keep studying medical knowledge until I figure out what I really want to do.' _Ratchet had made his mind, though unsure for the first time in his life, he was also going to figure out what he really was made for.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Okay folks this is the end. I'm glad that so many people have enjoyed this fic of mine. Huge thanks for the reviews, alerts and favs. Also many thanks to Gixxer Pilot who's been beta reading this thing for me from chapter 5. I was originally intended to have more story for this fic, but I've grown frustrated with many things over the time while I've been writing this. Maybe I'll make one shots of those pieces I left out from this one, but for now Origins has met it's end.

Look forward to seeing more fanfic from me. Because this as sure as pit isn't the end!

* * *

Ratchet's creators had deactivated just before the white mech and Ironhide had graduated. The spark bond between Ratchet's creators had dragged both of the elderly mechs to their doom. It had been spark breaking for Ratchet to be separated from his creators like this, but he made it through somehow with the help of Ironhide.

The two of them were feeling very alone in their apartment in the 3rd district. They had been so used to the presence of the elder bots that the whole place felt suddenly so empty and big. Ratchet had sealed the door leading to the berthroom of his creators; he just couldn't watch the empty berth standing alone in the room. Neither of the mechs said a word about it, but they were going to move away from there as soon as they graduated. There was no reason for them to stay in a place that held so many painful memories. Ratchet's creators were gone, and nothing could bring them back.

The time taught them both that deactivation was inevitable, the life didn't continue endlessly. At some point, all the mechs and femmes would turn out to be too old or something other could occur and their lives would be over. Death wasn't glamorous either. Ratchet had seen it with his very own optics while he was part of the medical team that had been taking care of his creators when the white mech and Ironhide brought them to the academy's hospital. It had been a painful and horrifying experience for the bonded couple, leaving Ratchet's father to suffer for a few moments before he had finally joined his wife. There were no great last words; just pure agony and even their final expressions had been filled with pain.

Ironhide and Ratchet had been made to learn a huge lesson about life in a very short period of time. They were now completely on their own. Even the emotional support the bonded couple had offered them was now gone. They may not have been able to support Ironhide and Ratchet financially or physically, but they still had been parent figures to them. Losing them meant they were now all alone without any family except each other. Only Ironhide and Ratchet grieved for the deceased bots.

Without the presence of his creators, Ratchet poured all the care and love he had to Ironhide. Until now, their relationship had been very light, but now they deepened it to the level where they could be called a couple. Ironhide had been more than happy to return the feelings with at least the same volume. It helped to fill up the empty gap left by Ratchet's creators.

After all of this, they had finally opened up themselves to the ever so curious psychiatrist Fender, who had been pestering both of them since Ratchet crashed during the lesson. The psychiatrist was very interested in their case because they had been growing up in such unusual conditions. The conclusion he came was that both Ironhide and Ratchet had been forced to grow up too quickly. The two mechs hadn't learned how to process their emotions properly at any point, which was why they acted like they did. Fender was really interested in studying them more and had plans for the information he had gathered by observing Ironhide and Ratchet.

Unfortunately, Fender had to close their file quite soon because Ironhide and Ratchet both received modifications and graduated. He was eager to see how they would cope at work, which was way more stressfull than studying, but he was unable to do that. Later on, Fender would be deactivated by Decepticons who were slowly fortifying their forces, making him unable to finish his studies on depression.

Ironhide and Ratchet had moved away from the slums as soon as they graduated and had jobs for themselves. They didn't want to spend any extra time in that place, because everytime they looked around themselves in there, they could see memories. Memories they would like to forget, but were unable to because they were reminded of them all the time. There were good memories too, but many of them weren't pleasant in any way.

In the end Ratchet had specialized in surgery. His over-sensitive hands turned out to be huge advantage in that area. It was also challenging enough to keep Ratchet interested in it. He wanted to make a difference, and being a medic certainly did a difference. He wanted to protect all life and becoming the best surgeon on all Cybertron was a good way to achive that goal.

Ironhide had become an enforcer. He loved chasing the bad guys day after day. He had a personal mission to eliminate the slum gangs from existence. He still hadn't forgotten what they had done to his beloved Ratchet, but back then he couldn't have faced them even if he wanted. Ironhide worked very well as a team with Chromia and together they could easily take on dozen of mechs.

Chromia enjoyed teasing Ironhide about his relationship with Ratchet. She was thinking they were moving too slowly. She often asked Ironhide that why he hadn't already bonded with Ratchet to be done with it. The subject always made Ironhide very uneasy. He wanted to have a lifetime commitment to the white mech, but he was not sure if Ratchet was ready. Ratchet was often busy nowadays. The white mech was quickly raising in the medical ranks. He was only second to the head surgeon anymore, while Ironhide was just a mere enforcer officer. Ironhide wasn't in a hurry to rise up in the ranks. He preferred action more than commanding troops or doing paperwork in a cramped office.

* * *

One evening, when both of them were home at the same, time Ironhide made up his mind. He wouldn't know when he would have another chance at this, since both of them were working on very irregular schedules. They were sitting on a couch in their apartment. Ratchet was leaning on Ironhide while Ironhide had his arm wrapped around the white mech's shoulders. The white mech was dozing in and out of recharge.

Ironhide turned to face his mate. Ratchet's optics flickered when he came out of slight recharge. Ironhide had a very serious expression which didn't go unnoticed to the white mech.

"'Hide what is it?" Ratchet asked with drowsy voice.

"Will you bond with me?" Ironhide stared straight to Ratchet's optics. Ratchet's spark skipped a beat. The white mech had been waiting for Ironhide to ask it for a long time, but he wasn't sure if he had heard right.

"What?!" Ratchet asked unintentionally harshly. He had picked up the habit of sounding irritated for good. Usually, he wasn't like that to Ironhide, but in situations that confused the white mech, he resorted to the insulting tone. Luckily, Ironhide had had more than enough time to be used to Ratchet's ways and he wasn't disturbed the slightest bit.

"Will you bond with me?" Ironhide asked again. This time Ratchet was sure of Ironhide's intentions. There was just one thing Ratchet wasn't sure if Ironhide had considered it.

"You do realise we could end up like my creators? I could have the same condition as they had. I would drag you down to the pit with me. I don't want to cause suffering for you," Ratchet questioned with a caring tone. He cared for Ironhide more than anything in the world and he didn't want to make the red mech suffer. Ironhide was in Ratchet's opinion too good and kind to be put through all that. The white mech preferred to stay without bonded if it would save any grieving.

Ratchet was about to keep on ranting how he could possibly ruin Ironhide's life when the red mech placed his index finger to Ratchet's lip components. Ratchet silenced immediately. Ironhide was still looking very serious.

"You should know me better than that. If it was for you, I would gladly die. I've thought this through several times and nothing except you could stop me bonding with you. So will you bond with me?" Ironhide asked very patiently and Ratchet knew Ironhide was right. The red mech had been there all the time for him and his creators; there was nothing Ironhide didn't know about the situation. Ratchet was silent for a while.

"Yes," Ratchet answered finally. Ironhide closed Ratchet instantly into a happy embrace, which was answered by an equally happy Ratchet. They sought each other's frames which they knew very well. They may have had the same basic structure, but each of them had their special spots where they were sensitive. Simple touching and stroking slowly turned into lustfull groping and biting. Ironhide used his strength as an advantage and quickly pinned Ratchet against the back of the sofa.

They revealed their sparks to each other the first time ever. For a while they didn't move. They were, afterall, going to do something that would change their lives eternally. Then Ironhide moved quickly followed by Ratchet and their chests met each other. Their sparks dove from their casings in an attempt to sought out the other spark calling to them. Ratchet felt Ironhide's consciousness invading his own. The feeling was really pleasurable for both of them. They opened up themselves to exploration. Ratchet dove deeper into Ironhide while Ironhide did the same to Ratchet. Feelings of past and present flashed through them. Nothing was secret to the other one.

Then for a while, both of them stopped from existing; there was no Ironhide nor there was Ratchet. They were a complete, new existence where both of their minds were intertwined together. Pure sensation filled their frames, driving them into a sensory overload which snapped the two mechs back into their own minds. Reluctantly, both of them started backing off from each other to their own consciousness. At the same time, their sparks started retreating back to their own spark casings.

But even when they had gone back into being Ratchet and Ironhide, they still could feel each other like never before. It was really comforting and amazing. Ironhide could feel how his new bondmate was tired but excited and decided to lay back on the sofa and bring Ratchet down with him. Ratchet practically collapsed on Ironhide; the bonding process had taken its toll on his already tired frame.

Ironhide smiled while being exhausted himself as well. Ratchet was now completely his own. He could spend the rest of his life with the mech he had adored for a really long time ago. Everything was going to be perfect. Ironhide tightened his arms around Ratchet as if the white mech might vanish suddenly. He listened to the calm intakes of his bondmate and finally fell to recharge himself.

* * *

_ Epilogue_

Nothing was eternal. Not even peace. The Decepticons had gained more ground and the eternal war between the two factions had started. Ironhide and Ratchet joined Autobots because of the ideology Autobots held. Autobots valued the equality of all mechs and femmes, which was exactly why they had made it out of the 3rd District. They could have been looked down in the process, but there was no law preventing them to make something out of themselves.

All the cruel experience they had gone through made them quickly rise in the ranks. They weren't afraid of fighting or death. While the other field medics froze in panic, Ratchet would already be there and do everything he could. Ironhide would take out all of his aggressions on the Decepticons; many of the Decepticon soldiers used to be criminals of various sorts. Even Ironhide's old guardian had turned into a Decepticon – Some almost-youngling called Jazz had taken him out in a battle.

It pained both of them to see bots going through the same things they had gone through while being younglings. This time it was the war forcing bots to grow up too quickly, turning them into emotional and social wrecks. Ironhide and Ratchet knew exactly how it felt to be expected to act like adults even though one was not even near of being adult.

They kept their relationship hidden because otherwise they would have subjected themselves to targeting. They were both officers in the Autobot army which, meant that ridding of one of them would kill the other one too. If they had ever known that the war was going to break up in such a huge scale, they wouldn't have bonded in the first place.

At that point of war, they didn't know that they would be exploring around space for new planets or that they would be among the Autobot heroes who were aboard the Ark. Neither did they ever even think that they would be deactivated together in the Earth year 2005 on a supply run to the Earth. But the life would continue like it had even before them; there would be always bots to take their places, but nothing could take away the memories.

The End


End file.
